Seraph Mk III Somme
Commander Revlis paced the bridge walkway, his footsteps reverberating throughout the room, his eyes flitting about the crew stations and their occupants below. As with most dull watches, naval crewmen silently rerouted communications throughout the ship or reviewed sensor data collected by the Confederation’s cruiser during its travels. Revlis was use to it, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Boredom for most people. But this is time I can simply think and recharge away from other people. He smiled. Even if that only means being two meters above them. Trista. It will be her birthday tomorrow, I had better send a holo. Though it won’t be quite as good as taking her out to that restaurant like last year. He frowned at the thought and slightly shook his head. The Price of Loyalty.
“Commander, transmission from Brandenburg,” stated his communication’s officer, who paused for a moment, “It has the seal of the Council on it with a priority flag.”
Revlis brushed his hand through his brown hair. “Very well, reroute it to my quarters. That’s where I will be then. Lieutenant, you have the watch.”
“Aye sir.”
Brandenburg, Genon
Sunlight streamed through the capitol’s windows into the halls. Politicians and other government officials paced through the marble halls. Throughout the building, Kirkanian guards stood at attention at checkpoints, their tour of duty at the capitol nearly over. Pro-Consul Thorn quietly strode towards turbolift shaft and smiled.
“Hello Sergeant, how are you today?”
“I’m fine ma’am,” stated the Kirkanian, “most of the other councilors are already present. I take it that’s a meeting of some importance.”
She smiled. “You know better than to ask such things.”
“Of course ma’am.”
A muted bell chimed; the doors slid open effortlessly. The Kashan woman walked in and turned around to face the lift’s control panel. She slipped her ID card through the scanner and pressed a few keys. A couple of seconds later, the doors closed, the lift accelerated downward. Most people would have the thought the delay occurred because of the information being processed. But she knew better. That only takes a few seconds. The people watching through the hidden holocams in here have to confirm our identity. Something that I would only know because of being on the committee with Stellar Enterprises to build the place. The doors slid open to reveal Atlas Hall. Councilors of the various Confederation members talked with each other or their aides. As she walked to the centre between the two tables and the holograph projector, the room’s occupants settled down. Christina flashed smile to peoples as the holo-projector flared to life into a visage of the map of the known galaxy. She swept her hands over a section, zooming it into the centralized Confederation space. Councilors looked intently at the map, many picking out the planets which they represented. She continued to zoom the map inwards to show several of the Confederation planets, notably Audacia on the southeastern edges of the map and Soroya on the northwestern corner. Yet again, her hand wavered over the map; this time over a single planet; one which no-one in the room represented.
“As you can see,” stated the Pro-Consul, “there are planets within our borders that remain independent of our Confederation. Local officers and diplomats have worked out agreements between them so that they are under our so-called sphere of influence. We have not done much with them, regrettably because of the internal affairs of mobilizing the economy and preparing for war. However, we have let delegates come and visit some Confederation worlds, particularly those nearby. Not much has come of this up until now, but now Quamar has applied for membership. Councilor Lavrik would you please elaborate?”
The Soroyan man stood up from his seat at the table. “Thank you Councilor Thorn. The planet Quamar sits on a hyperroute between Soroya and Audacia. Merchants from my planet frequently use it to get over to Audacia and trade for foodstuffs. Sometimes my people have stopped over Quamar for repairs, but we’ve never visited the surface. In fact, we do not currently know of anyone who has visited Quamar; the most contact previous to their visit of Soroya was audio only through subspace transceivers, regarding the use of their sovereign space for emergency repairs. They’ve been exceptionally isolationistic since the start of the Clone Wars; we haven’t even seen a Quamar starship ever until they visited Soroya.”
Lavrik paused for a second.
“And we think we might know why…”
Captain’s Quarters, Seraph Mk III Somme
Aside from the dim hum of the holoprojector, the room was quiet. Its two occupants, Commander Revlis and his executive officer both just stared at the hovering image: a globe. Tracks of gray land sprawled across the dark blue seas. It could have been passed as any number of Terran planets except for one thing: its atmosphere. White clouds swirled around in some number, but more common, more intriguing where the orange-tinged swaths of colour; as if the planet’s air had caught on fire.
“So this is Quamar.”
“No,” stated Revlis, “this is what we think is Quamar.”
They both stared at the holograph of the planet for second.
“It is ugly. What in the hell did they do their atmosphere?”
Revlis snorted at his executive officer’s comment and leaned back. Information about the planet is next to nonexistent. When you see the Confederation Intelligence Agency logo on the briefing message, you expect several introductory pages of information and comprehensive information links to other topics, like a planet’s industry. Instead, we have several holos of the planet, a picture of one of their representatives, and their message to us. He furled his brow for a second. I should show the Lieutenant their representative. Revlis tapped a button on the remote, replacing the planet with a hulking, vaguely humanoid shape. The other man’s mouth gaped.
“Is that a droid, or is that them?”
Revlis shrugged. “That is one of their representatives at Soroya. Maybe it’s a droid, maybe it’s not. But it would explain how they can live there.”
“Another Uffel. Great.”
“Perhaps,” mused the commanding officer, “We shall see. Something about their posture doesn't seem fully mechanical. This will be interesting at least. I hope you weren't planning on picking up any dates this trip.”
The other officer continued to stare at the holo.
"I hope I'm not as well..."
Commander Revlis paced the bridge walkway, his footsteps reverberating throughout the room, his eyes flitting about the crew stations and their occupants below. As with most dull watches, naval crewmen silently rerouted communications throughout the ship or reviewed sensor data collected by the Confederation’s cruiser during its travels. Revlis was use to it, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Boredom for most people. But this is time I can simply think and recharge away from other people. He smiled. Even if that only means being two meters above them. Trista. It will be her birthday tomorrow, I had better send a holo. Though it won’t be quite as good as taking her out to that restaurant like last year. He frowned at the thought and slightly shook his head. The Price of Loyalty.
“Commander, transmission from Brandenburg,” stated his communication’s officer, who paused for a moment, “It has the seal of the Council on it with a priority flag.”
Revlis brushed his hand through his brown hair. “Very well, reroute it to my quarters. That’s where I will be then. Lieutenant, you have the watch.”
“Aye sir.”
Brandenburg, Genon
Sunlight streamed through the capitol’s windows into the halls. Politicians and other government officials paced through the marble halls. Throughout the building, Kirkanian guards stood at attention at checkpoints, their tour of duty at the capitol nearly over. Pro-Consul Thorn quietly strode towards turbolift shaft and smiled.
“Hello Sergeant, how are you today?”
“I’m fine ma’am,” stated the Kirkanian, “most of the other councilors are already present. I take it that’s a meeting of some importance.”
She smiled. “You know better than to ask such things.”
“Of course ma’am.”
A muted bell chimed; the doors slid open effortlessly. The Kashan woman walked in and turned around to face the lift’s control panel. She slipped her ID card through the scanner and pressed a few keys. A couple of seconds later, the doors closed, the lift accelerated downward. Most people would have the thought the delay occurred because of the information being processed. But she knew better. That only takes a few seconds. The people watching through the hidden holocams in here have to confirm our identity. Something that I would only know because of being on the committee with Stellar Enterprises to build the place. The doors slid open to reveal Atlas Hall. Councilors of the various Confederation members talked with each other or their aides. As she walked to the centre between the two tables and the holograph projector, the room’s occupants settled down. Christina flashed smile to peoples as the holo-projector flared to life into a visage of the map of the known galaxy. She swept her hands over a section, zooming it into the centralized Confederation space. Councilors looked intently at the map, many picking out the planets which they represented. She continued to zoom the map inwards to show several of the Confederation planets, notably Audacia on the southeastern edges of the map and Soroya on the northwestern corner. Yet again, her hand wavered over the map; this time over a single planet; one which no-one in the room represented.
“As you can see,” stated the Pro-Consul, “there are planets within our borders that remain independent of our Confederation. Local officers and diplomats have worked out agreements between them so that they are under our so-called sphere of influence. We have not done much with them, regrettably because of the internal affairs of mobilizing the economy and preparing for war. However, we have let delegates come and visit some Confederation worlds, particularly those nearby. Not much has come of this up until now, but now Quamar has applied for membership. Councilor Lavrik would you please elaborate?”
The Soroyan man stood up from his seat at the table. “Thank you Councilor Thorn. The planet Quamar sits on a hyperroute between Soroya and Audacia. Merchants from my planet frequently use it to get over to Audacia and trade for foodstuffs. Sometimes my people have stopped over Quamar for repairs, but we’ve never visited the surface. In fact, we do not currently know of anyone who has visited Quamar; the most contact previous to their visit of Soroya was audio only through subspace transceivers, regarding the use of their sovereign space for emergency repairs. They’ve been exceptionally isolationistic since the start of the Clone Wars; we haven’t even seen a Quamar starship ever until they visited Soroya.”
Lavrik paused for a second.
“And we think we might know why…”
Captain’s Quarters, Seraph Mk III Somme
Aside from the dim hum of the holoprojector, the room was quiet. Its two occupants, Commander Revlis and his executive officer both just stared at the hovering image: a globe. Tracks of gray land sprawled across the dark blue seas. It could have been passed as any number of Terran planets except for one thing: its atmosphere. White clouds swirled around in some number, but more common, more intriguing where the orange-tinged swaths of colour; as if the planet’s air had caught on fire.
“So this is Quamar.”
“No,” stated Revlis, “this is what we think is Quamar.”
They both stared at the holograph of the planet for second.
“It is ugly. What in the hell did they do their atmosphere?”
Revlis snorted at his executive officer’s comment and leaned back. Information about the planet is next to nonexistent. When you see the Confederation Intelligence Agency logo on the briefing message, you expect several introductory pages of information and comprehensive information links to other topics, like a planet’s industry. Instead, we have several holos of the planet, a picture of one of their representatives, and their message to us. He furled his brow for a second. I should show the Lieutenant their representative. Revlis tapped a button on the remote, replacing the planet with a hulking, vaguely humanoid shape. The other man’s mouth gaped.
“Is that a droid, or is that them?”
Revlis shrugged. “That is one of their representatives at Soroya. Maybe it’s a droid, maybe it’s not. But it would explain how they can live there.”
“Another Uffel. Great.”
“Perhaps,” mused the commanding officer, “We shall see. Something about their posture doesn't seem fully mechanical. This will be interesting at least. I hope you weren't planning on picking up any dates this trip.”
The other officer continued to stare at the holo.
"I hope I'm not as well..."